Read Sorceress of Faith Online
Authors: Robin D. Owens
Then
there was a roaring, a chanting not quite in sync. “This is what I heard. At the
time, I was understandably not listening.” She managed a strangled laugh at the
memory of being suspended over the room full of monsters. “But I remembered
later.”
Again
the others frowned in concentration. Shook their heads.
“Tuck,
can you choose the loudest group of chanters and refine the sound to project
only their voices?” She had no idea of his capabilities.
Tuck
stopped, waddled over to his water dish and lapped. Then he centered himself in
the table, sat with paws curled inward and opened his mouth.
“Get
it. Get it. Get it. We will get it, Master. Master. Master.” The last word
emphasized the sibilant.
“Sangviles.”
Jaquar choked.
A
chill pall enveloped the room. Sangviles feasted on Power. Every person here
would be a tasty treat. Marian shivered.
“I
think the Dark entered Amee by the Dimensional Corridor and arrived in Lladrana
first. When it moved on, it left something behind, and wants it back,” Marian
whispered, but the chamber was so quiet it was as if she shouted.
There
was a full minute’s silence.
“That’s
all?” someone sputtered. “Just give it back.”
“You’re
not thinking,” Alexa snapped. “Whatever it needs would only make it stronger,
I’m sure. What we
don’t
want is an even more formidable enemy. It is an
immense Dark evil as it is, affecting the entire world of Amee. Amee cries,”
she ended softly.
Marian
lifted her chin and swept the table with her gaze, meeting each person’s eyes
except Jaquar’s. “Both Alexa and I know that Exotique Terre’s Song is much
stronger than Amee’s, yet Exotique Terre probably doesn’t have the same
abundance and potency of Power. So how much greater was the Power on Amee
before the Dark drained Amee’s and broke its Song? Every minute the Dark feasts
on Amee.”
Bossgond
grunted. “A very good question.” A smile flickered on his lips. “Both the
Exotiques are excellent students, good thinkers and natural Power Users. The
Song would not send us anything less in this time of need.” He stood and bowed
to Alexa, then turned and bowed to Marian. “Good work. We now know more about
the master and the Dark and the reason the Dark is invading Lladrana. There is
much we still need to learn, and ultimately we must destroy the Dark before it
demolishes Lladrana, but you have increased our knowledge base significantly. I
salute you.” He bowed again.
Marian
sat up straighter. “Thank you.”
“I
think the Marshalls will want to discuss all the information they learned
privately,” Bossgond said to the Circlets. “You all, go disperse everything you
heard to the rest of the Towers. Jaquar, come with me, we must speak of the
Dimensional Corridor,” he ended coolly.
“One
moment,” Swordmarshall Thealia said. “The Marshalls understood last night that
Exotique Marian did us a great service, so we wish to thank her with a
presentation of our own.”
Bossgond
settled down into his chair, eyes bright with interest.
Thealia
lifted the speaker-horn. “Come in, now, please, Medica.”
The
door opened and a woman wearing a dark red tabard with a big white cross
entered, holding on her hip a baby girl about a year old. The woman was a
Medica—a doctor-healer. The child was a black-and-white, a person of
potentially great Power that was fragmented and erratic.
Marian
tensed. This was the child that had nearly drowned in jerir. She’d swallowed
the magical brew—inhaled it, too.
The
Medica sat in a chair with a shield carved on it. She put the little girl, clad
in a diaper, on the table. The baby grinned and started crawling as fast as she
could down the table.
Marian
looked around. The Circlets observed the baby detachedly, the Marshalls wore
goofy smiles and tried to attract her attention. She scuttled directly to
Thealia’s husband, patted his round face.
“Her
name is Nyja,” the Medica said. “Like many black-and-whites, before her dip in
the jerir, her Power flow and mental processes were splintered.” She inhaled.
“I have copies of my notes of her condition before and after her plunge.”
Marian
felt Alexa simmer with anger through their bond, and sent comfort to her.
Like
most black-and-whites, the child was subject to
frissons
, convulsions,”
the Medica continued.
Bastien,
now master of his wild black-and-white Power, stiffened. Alexa twined her
fingers with his.
The
Medica pushed a book that looked like a journal onto the table. “I understand
that your brother has that symptom?”
“He
has muscle spasms,” Marian said. The little girl was basking in the attention,
going from person to person to play with each. Her Song was clear and steady
and strong.
“Ahem.”
The healer cleared her throat and shifted a little farther from Alexa. “The
night the babe was immersed in the jerir, she inhaled the liquid into her
lungs, swallowed some, and—” the Medica sucked in a breath “—had a tiny hole in
her skull. The jerir reached her brain.”
“What!”
Alexa jumped to her feet, furious.
The
baby began to whimper. Alexa tromped to where the child sat and scooped her up,
cuddling her. The little one settled against Alexa’s breasts, obviously
comfortable with her.
The
healer had paled and did not meet Alexa’s eyes. “We Medicas are very well
versed in head trauma, treatment and surgery. The hole was drilled a few
moments before the jerir experi—uh, therapy, and closed as soon as I revived
her.”
Alexa
rocked and patted the baby, narrowing her eyes at the Medica. “I don’t remember
that.”
“I
beg your pardon, Swordmarshall, but you were not in a very observant state at
the time.” The healer still didn’t meet Alexa’s eyes.
“Feycoocu,
is this true?” asked Alexa.
Yes
, projected
Sinafin mentally, strolling out from under Alexa’s chair as a long-haired white
Persian cat.
Alexa
snorted. “I can see I won’t get any answers from you—you’re a cat.” Her mouth
snapped shut, then she sent a fulminating glance around the room. “I won’t
stand for such
experiments
, do you hear?”
Thealia
rose and took the little girl from Alexa, looking down at the Exotique
Marshall. “We wanted to save our granddaughter.”
Bastien
curved an arm around Alexa and brought her against his body. “They tried
something different to cure Nyja and it worked, evened out her Power flow.”
Alexa
fingered her baton.
“You
think her brain was affected beneficially by the jerir?” asked Marian.
“Yes.”
Marian
trembled with excitement, with hope. “My brother’s disease is one of the
nerves, particularly in the brain and the spinal cord.” But did a
black-and-white’s fragmented Power flow have any resemblance to multiple
sclerosis? Could the jerir liquid help Andrew? And would he have to have brain
surgery in Lladrana to cure him?
The
Medica rose, then placed her hand on the journal. “These are copies of our
notes regarding Nyja. She is an exceptional child, now.” She gave a half bow to
the room and left, back straight.
Marian
stood and took the book, held it close. “Thank you,” she said to Thealia.
Bossgond
rose and snapped his fingers. All attention focused on him. He stood like a
king, like the most Powerful magician in the world. “Exotique Marian was my
Apprentice. I believe she has proven her worth to all of you. She would be an
invaluable addition to the Tower and to all Lladrana in our fight against the
Dark.”
“I
think you all know of her circumstances. She has an ill brother on Exotique
Terre—Jaquar Dumont and other Circlets are prepared to return her to her home
with the hope that we may Summon her back once again, and perhaps her brother,
too. Who will stand with us in this endeavor?”
Thealia
laid her hand on her husband’s shoulder. “I speak for myself and my Pairling in
offering our aid.” She glanced around the room. “I would prefer if all the
Marshalls agreed to be part of this Summoning, as we are the most trained in
the technique.”
“There
are others to be Summoned in the future, too?” a Circlet said.
Luthan
rose. “The Song predicts that the battle against the Dark will be most
effectively pursued
and won
if four other Exotiques are Summoned. The
other segments of our society are interested in people who will work with them.
The best times for the Summonings over the next two years are known.”
Bossgond
said, “The calculations regarding Exotique Circlet Marian’s travels through the
Dimensional Corridor are specific to her and will not interfere with any other
Summonings.”
A
burly-looking Swordmarshall rolled his shoulders. “More Summoning spells lie
ahead of us. My Shield and I will participate in Summoning Circlet Marian. Good
practice.”
All
of the other Marshalls murmured agreement. A huge burden of stress dropped from
Marian’s shoulders. She exhaled a prayer of relief.
Nodding
at the Circlets, Bossgond said, “If you wish to take part in this exercise,
both Sending and Summoning, please let me know.” He turned to Jaquar. “Come
with me and we will refine our plans. Marian, we will be ready to speak with
you in about an hour.”
Everything
was moving so quickly. And so well! Marian just stood and watched the others
file out until only Alexa and Bastien were left.
“We’ll
be behind you all the way,” Alexa said. “If it can be done, it
will
be
done.”
“Thank
you,” Marian said.
M
arian sat at the
desk in her Castle apartment and studied the vial of jerir Chevalier Faucon had
given her. It was a viscous dark liquid the consistency of thick maple syrup.
When she held it up to the window, it was opaque to the light, but deep within
the glass she thought she saw a sparkle or two. She didn’t know what that was,
and nothing in the research notes mentioned sparkles.
She’d
already read the notes on baby Nyja, how much better the child had progressed
after the submersion in the jerir than before. Drawings showed where the hole
had been made in her skull. Marian had leafed through a fat volume on head
injuries and surgery. Apparently the Castle Medicas had made that a specialty
for generations.
Her
thoughts kept straying from her studies, particularly since she thought she’d
absorbed everything she could about the jerir and healing. She continued to
consider the people of Lladrana.
The
Marshalls and Circlets had ill-hidden their excitement at the information she’d
given them. She suspected that they didn’t think the price she paid was too
high and that the ends justified the means.
Only
Alexa, Bastien and Bossgond, the three closest to her, knew her trials and what
it had cost her in terror and pain.
As
for Jaquar, he’d looked as if he had suffered every step of the way with her.
She still could not banish him from her thoughts. She shifted in her seat as
she thought of their lost bond.
She
tried to think about him in a logical fashion. Since she’d sensed facts about
the Dark’s maw, had reviewed them, and then had come to conclusions about the
inhabitants in a way that had helped all of Lladrana, hadn’t she also come to
conclusions with Jaquar and Bossgond?
Yes.
She leaned back against the soft pillow back of the chair and closed her eyes,
remembering the atmosphere of Jaquar’s Tower—the grief and rage and despair.
She could believe him when he said his original plan was made in the craze of
vengeance.
Objectively,
she could envision how the whole scheme unfolded…and how Jaquar might have
backed off when his sorrow lessened and when he came to know her, as he’d said.
After
all, she’d only had that brief, deadly premonition about him once, the first
time they’d met.
But
reason did nothing to ease the very real hurt.
The
little waterfall clock tinkled that it was time to join Bossgond and Jaquar in
the chambers now allocated to the Tower, a suite of several rooms on the top
floor of the west wall of the Keep. Prime space, she knew. She wished Tuck had
been her PDA alarm clock and accompanied her, but after the meeting, Sinafin
had carried him to the brithenwood garden.
Marian
hesitated to see Jaquar again, didn’t know what emotions would batter her. She
set her shoulders, donning her most professional manner.
Picking
up the vial of jerir, she stared at it again, seeking the glimmers. They seemed
to symbolize hope, and she took comfort from the small bottle. She put it in
her pocket as an odd talisman and touched it as she walked to the Tower’s
suite. She recalled how Alexa fingered her baton, and thought that if all went
well, Marian herself would have a telescoping wand to hold and keep her fingers
busy in the future.
Though
she ran her thumb only softly over the doorharp, they heard her, and Bossgond
impatiently shouted, “Enter.” After a seconds’ hesitation, Marian set her
fingers in the door latch and pulled it. The door opened outward and she
slipped into the room, then closed the door behind her.